


This is Knot Okay

by ascatman



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Blood, Body Horror, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Crying, Homophobic Language, Knotting, M/M, Rimming, Top Steve Harrington, Werewolf AU, aggressively heterosexual Billy Hargrove, werewolf Steve Harrington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-23 07:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18148874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ascatman/pseuds/ascatman
Summary: Billy assumes that Steve is up to no good when he notices him skipping out on games and practice once a month, so he sets out to follow him one evening. This just might be the biggest mistake he'll ever make.





	This is Knot Okay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reedbuck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reedbuck/gifts).



> This is a SUPER late birthday gift, but I hope it turned out alright enough to make up for it!
> 
> Aside from Steve referring to it as a rut (because I honestly have no idea wtf else to call it), this has nothing to do with ABO dynamics. Just some good old fashioned werewolf on human fucking.
> 
> Also please note that this teeters really hard on the line between non and dubcon, so please be aware of that going into this, Billy is very unhappy pretty much the entire time.

Billy Hargrove liked to consider himself an observant person. When something was off, he noticed it. When Max started asking for more rides to the arcade or telling him she'd skate home after school, he noticed and knew it was because of those little shitheads she'd been hanging around. Point being: he _noticed_ shit. So when Steve Harrington skipped out early on practice and was mysteriously sick for the occasional night game at least once a month, Billy noticed that too. It pissed him off, got him bristling and taking it out on his teammates, or on the opposite team if it happened on a game night. After winding up benched for shoulder checking someone from the other team so hard that the kid twisted his ankle on the way down, Billy had decided that enough was enough. He was going to find out just what the fuck Harrington got up to that was more important than his obligation to the team.

Asking him was out, Steve _knew_ Billy was pissed about it, considering Billy made sure to tell him as much the day after that game. The asshole had just shrugged his shoulders and said something about getting sick. Harrington was a fucking terrible liar, didn't even consider the fact that coming to school the day after being too sick to play might be pretty incriminating. No, he wasn't going to get any answers from just _asking_ , he was going to have to follow him.

It happened like clockwork, exactly one month later on a day when they had a later practice than usual. Steve stuck around for a while, then glanced up at the clock, nothing anyone would notice if they hadn't been watching him the whole time. Billy noticed. He got this look on his face after that, and his dribbling got sloppy, like he was focused on something else, stuck in his head. Every few seconds, he'd glance up at the clock, and like ten minutes later he clapped the shoulder of the guy he'd been practicing shooting with and ducked out to the showers. Billy waited a minute before letting the coach know he was feeling sick and needed to head out. After that, he sat in his car waiting for Steve, smoking a cigarette and tapping along to a Metallica song until he saw that head of fluffy brown hair emerge from the door. He took one last drag off his smoke and tossed it out the window as he started his car and prepared to follow him.

When they left the school, it had already started getting dark, that just came with the shorter days of winter. The sky was a pinkish color, clouds tinted with the setting sun, it was fucking cold out, but at least it hadn't snowed yet this year. Billy followed far behind Steve, turning his radio down just in case his loud music gave him away. They didn't end up turning down the street leading to the huge houses that made up the rich part of town, instead Steve left town altogether, driving down this winding rural road that eventually turned to dirt when the pavement ran out. So now Billy was even more pissed because he'd have to wash his car and it was all Steve's fault for daring to go wherever the hell he was going.

Eventually, Steve pulled over on the side of the road, parking his car in the grass and just sitting there. Billy could see him way up ahead and he reversed until he was out of sight, then parked and got out to do the rest of his stealth work on foot. On either side of the dirt road were woods, dense with towering pines, dark and foreboding in a way that made Billy feel just a little uneasy as he quietly got closer. He ducked behind a tree when he was sufficiently close, licking his lips as he watched Steve finally get out of his car. The guy looked upset, rubbing his face with his hands and leaning against his door, before finally pulling away and starting off into the woods. What the actual fuck?

Following Steve through the forest was difficult, to say the least, he had to be ultra aware of every step so he wouldn't crack any sticks or trip, while also trying to maintain a safe distance to where he wouldn't lose him. Fuck, they were deep in the forest already, Billy couldn't see the road anymore and he was starting to worry that they were going to end up lost. No way was he getting stuck lost in the woods with Steve fucking Harrington. Billy might have been a dick, but he didn't deserve _that_ level of karmic retribution thank you very much.

Thankfully, after what felt like fifteen minutes of walking, Steve came to a stop in a small clearing. Billy frowned, leaning up against a tree, only to pull his hand away when he found massive gouges in the bark. It was clawed to hell, the wood splitting like something huge had shredded into it. His brows furrowed, frown pulling harder at his lips. When he looked around, he noticed that nearly every tree around the clearing had been torn up, and when he turned his attention back to Steve, he couldn't help but note that the ground around him sported similar marks. Shit, they needed to get out of here, it looked like a fucking bear playground.

Steve was standing in the middle of the clearing, staring up at the sky, seemingly transfixed on the rising moon. He was breathing hard, shaky hands suddenly moving to unzip his jacket, which he shrugged off and tossed aside. It was like twenty-nine degrees out and Steve was actually stripping off his shirt, kicking off his shoes, and _man what the fuck_ , he was undoing his pants too. By the time he was done, Steve was totally naked and folding up his clothes, which he set aside before going back to staring at the moon. Was this some weird cult thing? Maybe Steve was one of those freaks who thought he was a goddamn _witch_ and could charge his chakras or power or whatever under the light of the moon—which Billy now noted was completely full and nearly all the way up.

The forest became bathed in an eerie blue glow, and Billy found himself shivering from more than just the cold. Something felt weird, and it wasn't just the fact that Steve was naked in the woods. The air felt different. _Charged_. And Billy thought for one mortifying second that maybe Steve really was a witch. In that moment, he took a step back, hands fumbling behind him for the nearest tree to lean against. Except his stupid feet stumbled when he misjudged how close the tree was, and he managed to step on the single loudest stick in the entire universe.

Steve's head whipped around and he locked eyes with Billy. Nothing happened for several seconds, until something seemed to click and he saw Steve's eyes go wide, his expression suddenly shifting to utter horror. “Billy, what—” He seemed to fumble his words, his voice shaking as he brought his hands up to cup his own face. He sounded like he was close to hyperventilating. “You can't be here! You have to— H-holy shit, man!”

Billy felt a sudden burst of white hot anger, cutting straight through his confusion at Steve's reaction. He surged forward, stomping right into the clearing while Steve shrank back like he was terrified of him. Fucking _good_ , he _should_ be. “I have to _what_ , Harrington? You fucking ditch practice, you call out of games, and for what, huh? To come out here and play naked in the woods like a goddamn lunatic? I knew you were a creep, but this takes the fucking cake.”

Steve was taking these great, heaving breaths, his hands rubbing at his face frantically. He kept taking steps back from Billy, feet looking all unsteady in his panic. “I don't wanna hurt you! Fuck, oh fuck, I don't wanna hurt anyone…”

That set something off in Billy, and he suddenly closed the gap between them, gripping Steve by the hair for lack of anything else to grab. He yanked hard, sending Steve stumbling forward with a yelp. Hurting Steve was good. Made Billy _feel_ good. So he gave another sharp yank, upward this time, forcing Steve onto his toes. Frantic hands grasped at the one in his hair, clawing uselessly into his skin. The sharp hurt of it only made Billy tighten his grip as he snarled in Steve's face. “What was that, Harrington? You think you're actually gonna _hurt_ me? That's the funniest joke I've heard all day.”

There were tears streaming down Steve's cheeks now, snot running from his nose. He looked like a mess as he sobbed out, “Please please please” over and over like that would sway Billy at all. While seeing Harrington lose it was pretty nice, there was something about the desperate tone that sent a little chill down Billy's spine. For a second, he almost thought about letting him go.

“Shut the fuck up and quit crying like a little bitch,” he said instead. When Steve dug his nails deeper into Billy's hand, he shook him around a little, yanking him side to side until he let out a pitiful wail. “Not gonna fight back? This is just sad, I honestly almost feel bad about this.” He laughed, a harsh sound that cut through the quiet of the forest. “Come on, Harrington. Cut the waterworks and tell me what the hell you were doing out here naked in the goddamn winter. You meeting up with a secret lover or something? What's his name?”

Suddenly, Steve tensed up hard, like his entire body just went rigid, back arched so his chest jutted out toward Billy. For a moment, he thought that maybe he'd struck a nerve, that he was right about him fucking some dude out in the woods. But then he heard a sickening crack coming from below. Steve's eyes rolled back in his head and Billy glanced down to find that his foot was fucking _growing_ , getting longer, the bones sounding out these awful snapping noises. His hands were cracking like that too, Billy realized, blunt nails suddenly growing into sharp points that pricked into Billy's skin until he was forced to let go of Steve's hair with a hiss and stagger back away from him.

“What the _fuck_?!” He clutched his hand, feeling slick wet blood beneath his fingers. Fuck fuck fuck.

Steve was gasping as he fell to the ground on all fours, taking these rattling breaths that sounded like he couldn't get enough oxygen in his lungs. He pressed his forehead to the ground as his body continued to contort, his limbs shifting in ways that looked wrong. Billy swore he could hear the bones as they ground together before finally snapping. Every twist and crack had Steve letting out these awful little cries, until they eventually died off into something guttural, like he was choking on his own tongue.

He should leave. _God_ he needed to run. Something kept him rooted to the spot, some mix of utter terror and morbid curiosity. He watched Steve's clawed hands—now massive somehow—as they tore into the dirt around him, and Billy realized that those were the same claw marks that had already littered the ground when they'd arrived. Fuck, they were the same ones he'd found on all the trees. _Steve did that_ , Billy's brain helpfully provided, _Steve did that with his_ claws, _and you're gonna be next._

Taking a shuddering breath to try to break through whatever kept him stuck in place, Billy managed to take a step back, just as Steve's back arched up toward the sky with several sharp cracks all in a row like his entire spine was realigning. Another step and Steve's skin was growing dark with something—hair, he realized. No, _fur_. A third step and Billy's foot landed on a stick that was a definite contender for the spot of loudest stick in the goddamn universe.

Steve was growling now, this deep rumbling sound that sent a shiver of dread down Billy's spine. Slowly, he raised his head, which Billy now realized was missing that trademark mess of soft brown hair, replaced with fur and pointed ears that flicked toward Billy like they were listening for him. He slapped a hand over his mouth, smearing blood across his skin as he tried to quiet his breathing somehow. There was no hiding the sharp gasp when he finally saw Steve's face, sporting a long snout that was dripping with saliva— _Salivating, fuck, he's salivating for his dinner._ —and two rows of long, sharp fangs, ready to tear into flesh.

What Billy didn't know, what he _couldn't_ have known, was that this was no ordinary full moon night, and Steve wasn't just out for blood. Although maybe Billy got some sort of hint when he watched the monster finally draw up onto his hind legs, standing tall, so fucking tall as he threw his head up toward the sky to let out a howl that nearly made Billy piss himself. Something else caught his eye then, something that sent a fresh wave of horror through him.

Steve was hard. A massive, bright red cock was protruding from a sheath between his furry legs, tapered toward the tip, but so thick and long that it would put any human to shame. Fuck, this was looking worse by the second.

While Billy didn't want to turn his back on Steve, he needed to get the fuck out of there before he wound up dead. He spun on his heel and ran for it, not knowing what direction the road was and not giving a fuck, he just had to get away. He had to get help, or a gun with silver fucking bullets. _Something_. Branches whipped his skin as he ran, sticks crunching underfoot while he tried to avoid anything that would trip him up. Daring a glance back, he saw Steve running after him, barreling through the brush on all fours like the animal that he was. Billy cursed and tried to pick up speed, only for his foot to catch on a tangle of weeds that sent him staggering forward and down to his hands and knees in the dirt. As quickly as he tried to scramble to his feet, Steve was on him, grasping his shoulder and digging his claws in until the skin broke. He grit his teeth around a yelp and tried to pull away, which only sent those sharp points deeper, he'd lose chunks of flesh if Steve chose to make one quick motion. The reality of it set in, and Billy went very, very still.

“Steve,” he tried, digging his fingers into the dirt, grasping handfuls of it that he considered throwing in Steve's face, maybe buy a little time. No, that was stupid, Steve was faster, he'd catch him and then he'd be angry and _really_ kill him. The creature behind him was silent, save for the heavy huffs of breath that Billy could feel, hot on his neck. “Let me go and I won't tell a soul about this. You can have your fucking crown back and I'll just fade into obscurity. Whatever the hell you want, man.”

There was a shifting behind him, then a pause, like Steve was considering something. Billy had no idea if Harrington could even hear him in there, if he carried any shred of humanity when he was like this, or if he was all beast. Whatever he was, he seemed to be thinking. There was a wet sound, like he was licking his chops, possibly thinking about what part of his meal to eat first. Billy hung his head, fingers squeezing the dirt as he waited for his fate to be decided by the guy whose face he'd once pummeled into a bloody mess, the guy who was now stronger than Billy could ever hope to be.

Everything happened so fast after that. The claws left his shoulder, only to rake down his back, shredding his jacket and shirt before catching on the waist of his jeans. Billy could feel the sting of the wounds, the drip of blood as it flowed down his sides, but the worst was yet to come. The claws dipped further below his jeans and Billy seriously regretted going commando that day when those too were shredded right down the middle like they were nothing. The cool night air hit his bare skin, leaving him shivering, his dick shrinking back slightly toward his body as it was exposed to the cold. Steve's clawed hand found his head next, at least managing not to fucking scalp him as he gripped onto Billy's curls and shoved his face into the dirt. He barely managed to turn his head in time to avoid a mouthful of it, leaving his cheek grinding against the ground instead.

When he tried to lower his hips down to avoid feeling so utterly exposed, he heard a growl, then felt claws gripping onto him, digging into his hip as Steve kept them up. He couldn't drop his lower half without risking having his flesh ripped off his body completely. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, trying and failing to keep the biting tone out of his voice. Of course he received no response aside from another huff of hot breath and that wet licking sound again and— _oh. Oh fuck._

Realization hit Billy like a goddamn freight train, and skin and clothes be damned, he started struggling to get away again. “No! Fuck no, don't you fucking _dare_ , Harrington!” All the flailing in the world wouldn't get him out from under that strong grip, so it was no surprise that he wore himself out without Steve letting up even a single inch. He panted, pulling at weeds and sticks and dirt, still trying weakly to scrabble out from beneath him. “If you touch me I swear to fucking god, I'll kill you. You'd better just kill me now, because I'll hang your ugly goddamn dog head right on my wall if you do this.”

Despite the threats, Billy's voice was shaking, his eyes burning with the threat of tears of frustration. As Steve shifted again, Billy flinched, body going tense at the thought of what was probably about to happen. It was going to hurt, he knew that much, it was probably going to be the worst hurt he'd ever experienced and he was going to feel like a weak little bitch for the rest of his life if Harrington didn't rip out his throat afterwards. Steve was moving, grinding Billy's cheek into the dirt one last time before both of those massive hands were on his ass, holding tight. Bruising. _Spreading_.

“Don't— _Hahh fuck!_ ” Something slippery and wet flicked across his asshole. His tongue, he realized, his fucking tongue. It was flat and wide, the texture feeling too much like a canine’s as Steve set to work lapping at his asshole like an overeager dog licking someone's face. Billy squirmed, trying and failing to keep a whine from slipping past his lips. It was obscene how loud Steve was being with it, slurping and slobbering while he made Billy experience something he'd never even considered before. There were nerve endings there, he _knew_ that, but he also wasn't a _queer_ , he didn't touch there when he jerked off and he hadn't ever wanted to. Steve's tongue was doing things to him though, making him pant and squirm and claw at the ground. “You're disgusting, I always knew you were a fag, I fucking knew it, Harrington. Knew you wanted me this whole time.”

While Billy babbled on, Steve doubled down, licking harder, insistent, until he was finally shoving his tongue right inside. The sensation was even more new to Billy, brushing into nerves he didn't know he had. He could feel Steve's wet nose nudging into his crack, his tongue feeling way too long as it flicked and wiggled inside of him. It managed to shut Billy up at least, mostly because he had to bite down on his lip to keep his noises in check.

It seemed to go on for hours, when in reality it had only been a few minutes before Steve seemed to have had his fill. He pulled away, leaving Billy to shudder as the cold air hit the mess of saliva that was now dripping down his balls. Was that all Steve wanted? He recalled that massive prick and swallowed, hoping to whatever higher power that his humiliation had been enough. Yet again his hopes were dashed when he felt Steve move once more, one powerful hand leaving his ass as the massive beast hunched down over him. Surprisingly soft fur tickled his back, stung against his wounds, and then he felt it, the wet tip of something hard and smooth. It bumped into the base of his spine, then trailed down lower until it was nudging up against his hole. Panic surged through him and he tried to move his hips, to pull himself away before he got ripped in two by that thing.

“Steve, wait! Wait, shit, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry! You can't just— You wouldn't just shove your dick in someone without like, _opening_ them a little first, right?” He thought about those long sharp claws and groaned. “I'll do it, okay? Just fucking. Just wait a sec, yeah?”

To his surprise, Steve paused, seeming to almost understand. Maybe there was still a little humanity left in there after all. Figuring he had a very short window of time for this, Billy wiped the dirt from his hand on what was left of his shirt, then brought it up to spit on his fingers. He was breathing hard as he reached down between his legs and found his hole, still wet with Steve's saliva. “Fuck,” he hissed, pushing one finger inside and immediately hating himself for it. This was all foreign territory for him, new and strange and unpleasant. Steve was getting impatient behind him, he could feel the way he was shifting around, growling softly every so often. Billy managed to shove a second finger in and swallowed when he felt that thick cock rutting against the very top of his crack, long enough that it slid over his lower back, leaving him hyper aware of the fact that he was going to somehow have to take that whole thing. Fuck, it was going to end up in his stomach.

“God, hold the fuck on, I'm _trying_.” Billy tried to snarl, but he mostly just wound up sounding wrecked already. Spit, as it turned out, was not great lube. Still, this was all he was going to get, so he tried to work himself open, managing to scissor two fingers until he thought that maybe he could handle a third. Even three didn't seem like it would be enough, but it would be better than nothing.

When he pulled his fingers out to add more spit, Steve seemed to take that as Billy being ready. He didn't give him any longer to prepare himself, hips already rocking back, lining his cock up despite Billy's cries of, “wait wait wait, Steve!”

There was nothing he could do but brace himself and grit his teeth as the tapered head started pushing inside, stretching him open far wider than his fingers had. Far more than he was comfortable with, not that he was comfortable with _any_ level of stretching back there, but he couldn't imagine _anyone_ ever being comfortable with something so big shoving up inside them. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, only for all the air to be punched right out of his lungs as Steve suddenly slid several inches in at once.

“Careful,” he hissed, wishing he had any control over this situation whatsoever. He was at Steve's mercy though, and he guessed that he really couldn't blame him for wanting to hurt the guy who'd nearly given him a concussion. That didn't make it hurt any less. Didn't make Billy feel like any less of a powerless bitch for ending up with a dick up his ass. This was just his life he guessed, being overpowered by people he couldn't fight back against, being punished for things that he'd done, warranted or not.

He drew one arm up close to his head, so he could hide his face in the crook of his elbow. It hurt, but not quite as bad as he'd thought it might. Steve was in deep now, sliding deeper, stretching Billy until he felt his knees going weak, and then somehow pushing in even more. Billy tried not to tense up too hard, since it only hurt worse when he did, instead he opted to do his best to breathe nice and deep, careful and calm. He only needed to hold on as long as Steve lasted.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Steve was seated all the way to the base. Billy hated that he could feel his stupidly large balls pressing against his own, tickling his skin with their soft fur. He was panting hard, breath coming in shaky waves as he slid his hand down to clutch at his stomach. It felt like his organs had all rearranged to accommodate Steve's cock, he'd never felt so _full_ in all his life, he swore he could feel it all the way inside his stomach, even though he knew that was impossible. He wondered if it was long enough to get past his colon. Tried to focus extra hard on remembering how long a person's colon was, because at least if he kept his mind occupied then maybe he could sort of remove himself from the situation.

And then Steve moved, dragging his dick out until there were only a few inches left inside, practically tearing Billy from his thoughts. He groaned, feeling like his insides were being pulled out with it. He could actually feel the spot where Steve's cock had occupied as his stomach shifted beneath his hand, organs seeming to drop back into place again. At least until those powerful hips snapped forward, driving the entire massive length in all at once. It bulged the skin of his stomach obscenely beneath his hand, a choked off yelp catching in his throat. In a way, it sort of felt like a swift kick in the nuts, forcing all the breath out of him and making him feel sort of nauseous. There was something else there though, this little twinge that he was adamantly trying to ignore. It was like Steve was dragging against something extra sensitive inside him, leaving Billy's dick leaking despite not even being hard.

“T-too much at once, Harrington. Slow down a little, will you?” He wasn't sure he could even be heard with how he'd buried his face into his arm, but he doubted that it would have mattered anyway. Steve seemed hellbent on using Billy like a glorified sex doll, already thrusting again— _the whole fucking thing at once_ —and starting to pick up the pace.

Being aware of the bulge beneath his hand was so weird, but Billy couldn't bring himself to pull away from it. Instead, he pressed his palm flat against the heated skin of his stomach, grunting every time he felt the bulge reappear. Like this, he could at least keep track of how deep Steve was, or at least know a split second before he bottomed out, since _that_ was an experience all on its own.

Eventually, Steve was fucking into him properly, at a pace that stole Billy's breath away and left him muffling all these little embarrassing noises in the crook of his elbow. His hand dropped away from his stomach when it stopped being any help whatsoever, and he used it to grasp at Steve’s wrist where his claws had found purchase in the dirt next to Billy’s head. God, even his wrist was so thick that he couldn’t totally get his hand around it. Billy wasn’t sure that he’d ever felt so powerless in all his life, not even with Neil, not even with Max and her sedatives and bat.

Despite how pathetic he felt, there was still something there, that little spark that was starting to leave heat pooling in his gut. To his horror, he felt his dick filling out, throbbing as it hardened up enough to bounce noticeably with every rough thrust. He wasn’t getting off on this, he _couldn’t_ be getting off on this, but there it was anyway, the evidence slapping into his stomach every time Steve fucked into him. His grip tightened on Steve’s furry wrist, blunt nails digging in uselessly as he bit down on his arm to muffle a sob. His vision was starting to blur, hot tears dripping down his cheeks before he could think to stop them. It wasn’t like Steve would be able to see them like this, but Billy still felt like a weak little bitch for it anyway.

Suddenly, he felt Steve’s thrusts grow uneven, all shaky and out of pace as he hunched over Billy to nuzzle his cool, wet nose into the back of his neck. That huge jaw opened up, dangerous fangs dragging across his sweaty skin. Billy tensed, squeezing his eyes shut and drawing in a shuddering breath. This was it, wasn’t it? Steve was going to rip his fucking throat out while he came, then he’d probably eat him. He was gonna wind up a pile of shit in the woods and this would be his last memory. As shitty as his life was, he didn’t want to die, not like this.

“Please,” he croaked out, clinging to the beast’s wrist like a lifeline as he felt those fangs settle over a spot just between his neck and shoulder. A moment later, there was a flash of sharp pain as Steve bit down, leaving Billy gritting his teeth against a scream. He could already feel the blood oozing out from several punctures, dripping down as Steve’s tongue flicked at the skin between his teeth. He didn’t go any deeper than that though, like he was just holding onto Billy with his mouth. Vaguely, Billy recalled seeing dogs go at it before, how the male liked to bite the female when he came. How they’d end up tied together and… _Fuck._

And just like that, Steve’s hips gave a final kick forward, burying himself to the hilt and staying there. Billy squirmed as he felt the base grow inside of him, stretching his ass to its limit and then some. Several hot jets of come spilled in him, so deep that he swore he’d never be able to get it out. Not that he could've even _tried_ with Steve’s knot plugging him up.

The teeth left his shoulder, replaced with an almost apologetic tongue that lapped at the wounds like it would do anything to help. He whined and tried to tug his hips forward, but Steve used his free hand to grip onto Billy’s waist, keeping him from yanking himself off his cock and hurting them both in the process. The worst part had to be that gigantic knot, it was a constant pressure against that spot that had caused his boner in the first place, and every shift that either of them made only seemed to pull another dribble of precome from the tip of Billy’s dick. Maybe he should just get it over with.

His hand left Steve’s wrist and slid down, pausing over his stomach to feel that bulge again, now stuck protruding through the skin. It was twitching constantly now, and he could actually feel it beneath his hand. Billy sniffled and wiped his tears on his arm as he continued on, finally closing his hand around his cock and starting to work it in unsteady little jerks. Steve nosed at the back of his neck again, hot huffs of breath hitting the skin there and making him shiver. As if sensing what Billy was trying to do, Steve released his hold on him, placing his hand back down on the ground next to his head, leaving Billy free to sort of rock against him.

With the help of the knot pressed against his prostate, Billy managed to send himself over the edge surprisingly fast. He squeezed his muscles around Steve as he came with a breathless moan, splattering the ground beneath him with jizz. He gave a few extra tugs to milk the aftershocks, and felt Steve lick the back of his neck as the knot steadily started to feel smaller and smaller. After a few minutes of being tied together, Billy was finally allowed to slump forward and off of Steve’s cock completely, where he drew in a few shaky breaths and flopped onto his side. He looked up at Steve through bleary eyes—fresh tears having streaked his face again at some point—and flinched when he felt those clawed hands grabbing at him once more.

He wasn’t forced onto his knees this time, but Steve did roll him onto his stomach so he could get at his ass. “C’mon, man…” Billy pleaded weakly, but he didn’t have the strength to keep trying to fight this. Surprisingly gentle hands grasped his cheeks, spreading him apart like Steve really needed to see how much he’d left Billy fucking gaping. Barely a second later, Steve’s snout was pressed up against him, flat tongue lapping at his abused hole like he was trying to get Billy clean or something. It drew a groan from him, arms crossing beneath his face to form a pillow as he tried to pretend that it wasn’t actually soothing as hell. He hoped this didn’t mean a round two.

Thankfully, Steve didn’t seem to have any plans for more than this, he just continued licking until Billy relaxed enough to feel some of Steve’s spunk leaking out of him. Steve lapped it up with a soft huff of what sounded like approval, before finally pulling away. Billy felt an immediate chill as the cold night air hit his wet hole, and he slowly curled in on himself. Fuck, he needed to get out of here, go home and shower to try to wash even a tiny amount of shame off of himself. There was so much to think about after this, way too much to even begin to consider right now, so he nuzzled his face into his arms and closed his eyes, trying not to focus on the sting of his wounds, or the way his ass felt empty now. He was just so tired.

A while later, he woke to strong arms wrapped around him, cradling him close from behind. A quick glance around told him that Steve had brought him to the clearing they’d started in, his warm arms keeping him held tight to his soft chest. Billy shifted against them and felt Steve hold him tighter with a soft growl, like a warning. It was warm though, and he was still exhausted. He’d get so much shit in the morning for being gone all night, but it didn’t look like he would be allowed to leave, so he just grunted and turned to bury his face in Steve’s soft fur, closing his eyes and letting himself give in to the urge to sleep.

When he woke in the morning, it was to Steve frantically pacing, human once more and now fully clothed. The chill of the air was impossible to ignore now that he didn’t have that warm body against him, especially considering the state of his tattered and bloody clothes. He shifted just a little, and it was enough to send waves of pain through every inch of his body, reminding him how completely fucked up he’d gotten last night. “Fuck!” he hissed, rolling onto his hands and knees because it was the only way he could avoid hitting any of his wounds on the ground.

Steve abruptly stopped pacing and looked at Billy with wide eyes. “You’re awake. Shit, man, I don’t… I shouldn’t have…” He huffed, covering his face with his hands briefly before dropping them down and setting Billy with a glare. “Why the fuck did you follow me?! None of this would’ve happened if you’d just minded your own damn business!”

Billy’s head snapped up to look at him, his blood boiling as he pulled himself up on shaky legs and staggered over to Steve. “Really? You’re seriously gonna pull this shit right now? What the _fuck_ was all of that, Harrington?” He finished the sentence with a rough shove to Steve’s chest, making the other boy stumble backwards.

“It’s exactly what it _looked_ like, asshole. You followed me and caught me on the night of my fucking _rut_. I was just going to wait it out or fuck whatever came my way, and then _you_ showed up.” Steve shoved him back, baring his teeth like it was even remotely intimidating when he didn’t have those sharp fangs.

Billy was still weak, so the shove sent him toppling back right on his ass in the dirt. He let out a pathetic cry, his eyes tearing up. Fuck, his ass hurt, he wasn’t going to be able to sit down properly for days. He glared up at Steve, who had a look of shock on his face as though he was actually sorry, and he forced himself to his feet again. “Fuck you, Harrington,” he spat, stripping off what was left of his jacket to tie around his waist so his ass wasn’t just hanging out the rip at the back of his pants. With that, he turned and started out of the clearing.

“Wait! Billy, just. Fuck. Hang the hell on.” Steve hurried after him, grabbing his arm, only to drop it and hold his hands up when he saw how hard the motion made Billy flinch. He stopped walking though, not turning around, but at least open to listening. “That’s the wrong way, you’ll end up deeper in the woods. Let me lead you out.”

There was a long moment of silence, and then Billy turned around, gesturing for Steve to lead the way. Getting lost in the woods in his state would probably be a death sentence, so he reluctantly followed Steve, his gaze locked on the ground the entire way. Neither of them spoke until they reached the edge of the forest, popping out right next to Steve’s car.

Steve stood there, biting his lip and rubbing at the back of his neck. “Do you wanna borrow some clothes? I always keep spares in case I don’t, y’know, get mine off in time.” He looked up at Billy, who just shrugged one shoulder, and he gave a sigh as he opened up the trunk to dig out a shirt and some jeans for him.

Billy took the clothes from Steve’s outstretched hand and felt their fingers brush. A short rush of something like electricity seemed to jolt through him, and he found himself looking right into Steve’s eyes to find that it looked like he’d felt it too.

“Billy, what—”

Suddenly, Billy snatched the clothes from Steve and turned to quickly head for his car without another word, leaving him standing there with his hand still in place, fingers curling into his palm as he watched him go.

**Author's Note:**

> No idea if anyone is interested in more of this, but I might write some follow up stuff for it later on. I love comments and kudos, both would be very greatly appreciated if you liked this! Let me know if you want to see more!!
> 
> Editing this to mention that I'm always looking for rp buddies or people to just talk plot and headcanons with! Add me on discord at Ascatman#6658 or message me on tumblr, it's ascatman there too


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